Hellow.

So, if you thought this was an updated version of SBPPOAS or WARBID...WRONG! Haha, no. it's actually...a brand new ONESHOT! Woohoo! Partaaay people. Haha, only jokes. Anyway, um, so. This is kind of my way of apologizing for not updating due to certain problems and...well, I will call them: technical difficulties. I'm very SORRY about this all.

Now, onto the main part of this little author's note: DUSTMOWT. myees, my darling little dougie face actually had his BIRTHDAY on June 11th. Being as unprepared as I was (THANK GOD FOR FACEBOOK! -glares at dougie-) I didn't know until like...two days before his birthday and on the day, I thought about writing this oneshot for him. This is why it is LATE (take note of that dougie boy) SO BABE; happy belated birthday, darling. I do hope you (and anyone else who reads this!) enjoys it. DUSTMOWT AKA DOUGIE;; THIS IS DEDICATED TO YOU!

WARNING: Be warned, there is...some limey stuff going on here; I decided to make it 'M' because not only did dougie request it but also to be on the safe side. So if you don't like this stuff...VANISH! THIS IS MXM. Don't read it if you're going to flame me and be all homophobic. Please and thank you!

NOTE: Also (this will be posted in all of my stories and on my profile page) I AM GOING AWAY ON THE 26TH OF JUNE. It is unlikely I will update because guess what kids?! IT'S SUMMAH-TIMEE! Ooh, ooh...ooh, ooh...haha...BUT YES. I am going to be away for 10 weeks - maximum. I WILL be writing and hopefully when I get back...well, just hope okay? HAVE A GOOD SUMMER EVERYONE.

NOW, ONTO THE ONESHOT. I love you all.

PS: DOUGIE RAWKS! Mehehehe!

PPS: Songs used for anyone who is interested; Letzte Minute - Killerpilze (german) and I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry. I do not own these songs nor these bands or any other brand product or whatever used in this oneshot.

PPPS: Isn't it weird how I started this on Friday the thirteenth? Or is that just me?

PPPPS: Sorry for any boring/dragging on bits.

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Title: When Things Go Bump in the Night

Written by: Effay

Date: Friday 13th June, 2008

Rating: M

Summary: Bogeymen don't exist. Ghosts are just silly figments of overactive imaginations. Vampires are only a fantasy. People don't become living monsters after they've died because once they're dead, they're dead. At least, that's what they told you. Well, guess what? Mommy and daddy lied. Don't you feel special now?

When Things Go Bump in the Night

You know, I demand our money back on this house. What a gyp, it's not a wonder the tenants before us left in such a hurry. Mom said that apparently, this place was only free for about a week or so before we snatched it up. It did have a pretty good deal on it I suppose due to the fact that the old tenants (including many others) had left in a great, mad rush without explanation and were currently all living somewhere...well; very far from here I'm guessing. The fact that the house was extremely nice-looking, perfect for our strange family and had a great, cheap deal on it was only a mask to cover up what the real house actually was. I mean, we were even told that the tenants before us were living here for a total of about three months (with the longest time ever stayed being six months) before suddenly demanding the house be put up for sale.

It's only now I realize just how much I whole-heartedly agree with their decision to move (not that I didn't before you know, I mean, we did get a pretty darn nice house out of it). I may even support that idea, may even suggest it to mom. Because really, I do not appreciate living in this pretty, perfect, clichéd-like suburban home that is all a cover-up for what the real house is. I do not appreciate the fact that we had to move all the way from Florida where I have lived my entire life, to North Carolina where we are unknown people, just to accommodate my mom's job. And I really do not appreciate having to share my very own room, with all my own things in it and where I do my own stuff, with a dead person either.

"Get out of my way!"

"No, you get out of my way!"

"Fairy boy!"

"Skank!"

"Queer!"

"Cristina Anna Leone!"

"Ho!"

"Dayne Russell Leone! If I -"

"You're just jealous because I get more than you do!"

"At least I have a lesser chance of contracting an STD!"

"Will you two just –"

Mom never finished her sentence as I finally shoved Cristina to the side and scrambled out the car, my finely manicured nails scrabbling to grip onto something to help hoist myself out. I nearly sobbed at how my nails were going to be ruined but dismissed the thought a second later. After all, there are bigger things at stake at the moment!

Once out, I did a very quick, mental cheer. I had to resist the urge to do a cartwheel and dance around in joy at beating my younger though very butch (she has muscle! Whatever happened to the fat from last night's iceberg lettuce and water?) sister and began to bolt at breakneck speed towards the open front door, listening to Cristina's outraged screams behind me followed by the fast clickity-click of her scary high heels as she attempted to catch up and eventually overtake me. That is, after preventing me from ever participating in strenuously pleasurable sexual activities ever again. Just the mere thought of her wielding an eyeliner pencil and the memory of what happened to that cheating scumbag of an ex-boyfriend in my mind had me wincing and glancing down to check my balls were still intact. They were by the way.

Nearly knocking over the box containing the television, I managed to swerve at the last minute, ignoring the angered yells of the movers. I turned back to apologize but only uttered a squeak and willed my Converse-clad feet to move faster as I saw my young sixteen year old sister stop on our new, bright green front lawn for a mere second to kick off her heels. She snatched them up off from the grass before neatly manoeuvring herself around the movers and resuming the chase. I could just imagine the burning fire in her bright blue eyes and the smoke curling from her nostrils as she plotted ways to kill me tonight in the slowest and most painful way she could think of. I think I should sleep with one eye open tonight...better yet, two.

Racing as fast as I could, I cursed myself for picking today of all days to wear my just-a-little-too-tight skinny jeans, they were chafing my thighs already. God, I must be getting so fat. I blame it on mom's cooking. Damn her and her talent for making the most delicious, mouth-watering, orgasmic chocolate muffins...god, even now I could just imagine the rich chocolate aroma seeping out from the kitchen I was now passing, smell it as it followed me and clung to my clothes as I made my way up the creaky, old staircase into the dark, unexplored abyss that was our new home. I could just see and taste the melting chocolate that are lodged deep inside the warm cavern of fluffy goodness, feel the warmth spread along me as I cupped it gently in my hand...okay, is it just me or am I now starting to sound like a crazed yaoi writer? Well, not that I'm not one because face it, when you have a love for writing and are too gay to even walk straight, what else can you be? Well, actually, I guess you could be a very gay news reporter...or a gay English teacher...but screw that, I'm a yaoi writer in my spare time. Get over it. No, I don't think I get laid enough either.

"Dayne you faggot, get away from that room!" my little sister screeched like a banshee behind me. I winced as it resonated all over the mainly empty house before continuing to thump my way down the corridor, grinning as I headed to the room which I just knew was the best judging from the photos we were given by our mom in order to convince us that no, we were not going to be living in some grungy apartment nor were we going to be living in a rundown shack of a shop-house. That is, a home that is half a shop and half a house.

Ignoring the dust that seemed to immediately fly up around me, the dim eternity that stretched on in front of my face and the fact that I could hear ominous creaks and groans wherever I ran, I giggled lightly to myself as I heard my sister's low growls behind me. There's no way she could overtake me now.

I turned to the left and burst into the room, cackling madly as I spun my way into the dim room, making my way over to the windows and pulling open the curtains to expose bright sunlight. It immediately flooded the room, lighting up the floating dust particles and displaying to the eye, a very nice bright blue wall-to-wall carpeted floor. I laughed more, whooping as I finally, finally bagged the best room in the house.

In Florida, Cristina had taken over the room that was potentially going to be mine when we moved house to accommodate two more new family members. Justbecause I had worn her new skinny jeans to a party the night before and had accidentally spilled a little bit of some alcoholic substance that happened to stain very easily does not mean that she had to take over my room. I mean, at least I tried to remedy it, granted it only made the whole thing worse i.e. it grew some new holes to go with the designer made ones (how was I to know that by saying only a little bit of bleach they didn't mean the entire cup given? I mean, the volume of the cup only seemed like a little bit) but hey, at least I tried right? I should get some credit for that, which I did get by the way since instead of having to give up my new room and be grounded for a month and a half, I was only grounded for a month. Mom might as well have made it like the original sentence and I said this but she helpfully pointed out to me that if I wanted the original sentence then it was just fine with her. I said a month was perfect.

"Oof!" I suddenly exclaimed, feeling the air escape out of my lungs at the same time as my hands scraped viciously along the carpet. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the throb of the beginnings of a carpet burn on my palm, my teeth sinking into my lower lip as I struggled not to let Cristina know that I was in pain. She'd be sure to think up new names for me and new insults to hurl at me the next time we would fight.

"Give me the room you fag!" she hurled venomously at me at the same time as pressing down on my back with her knee. For a sixteen-year-old, she's pretty strong and heavy.

I tried to voice this out loud, knowing it would only cause me more grief but my words were muffled due to the carpet and the only thing I got was a bad case of sneezing and coughing as I simultaneously breathed and swallowed in those dust particles that were hiding amidst the fabric of the carpet - stupid dust bunnies and their evil conspiracy to dominate the world. I swear they plan to invade all available human facial orifices, one nostril or mouth at a time.

"What was that?" Cristina said, increasing the pressure on my poor back (as if it doesn't get enough from having to piggy back the twins everywhere). I assumed she'd leant down due to that fact and the fact that I could hear her voice loud and clear in my head followed by her grunting and heavy breathing.

As I opened my mouth to repeat what I said, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a great attack of feeling those dust bunnies invading my entire body, sliding down the various tubes and running along roller coaster tracks of the bronchioles inside my lungs as my air supply slowly began to run out. I couldn't breathe otherwise I'd start coughing, I felt as if I was suffocating. Shitshitshit, can't breathe!,the mantra resounded in my mind. Weakly, I dimly registered my limbs moving about as I tried to signal to Cristina to get her fat ass up off me because I couldn't breathe but it was okay since the pressure suddenly disappeared like Cristina had jumped off at the sound of a gunshot...more precisely however, it was mom. God knows, she's scarier than a speeding bullet which could sever an artery and would bring the eventual demise of your human life much sooner than you thought.

I think that people are more likely to get shot when they're young rather than old, after all, who wants to kill a sweet old lady who makes the yummiest cookies in the world? Although we might be doing the world a favour killing off those old bastards – lord knows they're probably the cause of overpopulation. They just sit around and do nothing! Proven when you look out the window into the next house over where you can see my new elderly neighbours. The old woman was sitting on her rocking chair and stroking a ginger cat and her husband was sitting right next to her, uttering little harrumphing sounds every so often as he turned a page of the newspaper he was reading. They can't even have sex to repopulate the world or whatever – wouldn't want one of them to throw out their back now do we?

Okay, I don't really think this but come on, you'd be thinking incoherently bitchy thoughts towards old people too if you were being suffocated by a butch sixteen-year-old and a dusty old carpet. Cut me a little slack here!

"Cristina Anna Leone! Get off of your brother, this instant!" Mom practically roared. I thanked whoever was up there watching over me as I turned over and gratefully sucked in much-needed oxygen. Freaking cow of a sister and her deathly habits!

Gulping in the cool, albeit just a little dusty due to the particles that must have flow up during Cristina and my scuffle, air, I turned my head to smirk faintly at my sister who was looking both afraid and very, very, very pissed off judging by the occasional glares she sent my way.

"First of all, Cristina, that was very unnecessary and a completely inappropriate thing to do! Your brother could have suffocated! You know how weak he is!" mom ranted on at her, her face flushed pink from contained anger. I'm sure she would have loved to let off more steam however, being our mom, she would have read somewhere from one of those many 'help your teenager, help yourself' kind of books (you know, the ones where they tell you the proper way to deal with temperamental daughters, gay sons, non-stop crying from babies, twin tantrums and whatnot), that full-out blowing up at your children can cause them to have a mental breakdown in that they think their entire existence is a failure, that they can't do anything right and that this would lead to eventual suicide. Or some kinds of crap like that. Who knows what they come up with these days? I'd be willing to bet my right ass cheek (and I never bet my ass on anything, I mean, it's one of those parts of the body where I pride myself the most on – it's sexy as hell and totally firm. It has to be to keep up with an ongoing sex life. Men are such animals sometimes...) that half of these extreme fatal disorders are only made up so they can earn more money by naming this very 'rare' disorder (which somehow all babies seem to miraculously have) and only one way to actually treat it.

Hey...hang on a second..."Mom!" I yelled from my position on the floor except it came out more like a hoarse frog croak – my throat was still trying to recuperate after having a fat ass fourteen-year-old sit on you and dig her fat knee into your already tortured back. What with piggy back ride demands and the amount of homework they give us to do at school...

"And you too Mister!" oh crap, now what have I done? "Stop provoking your little sister Dayne or I will have to ground you again!"

"Aw man, come on mom, it wasn't me who tried to suffocate one of your children!"

"Shut up Dayne!"

"No you -"

"Both of you be quiet!" mom screamed, leaving a resonating echo both in the house and in my ears. I winced at her tone, closing my eyes to prepare for a barrage of ranting but there was nothing. Cracking open my eyes, I looked up at my sister who had done the same thing but she was now looking at our mom. Turning my head, I looked at her standing with one hand on her hip, the other massaging her temples as she calmly mouthed numbers to calm herself down - no doubt a technique she learnt from one of those books of hers.

"Neither of you are getting this room. In fact, this room is for the twins actually. It's way too big for one single person and it's perfect for the twins since they're going to need quite a lot of space to fit everything. So no, neither of you will be getting this room. I've already picked out your rooms for you so don't argue with me. Clear? If this 'I want the best room! No, I want it!' nonsense continues, you both will be grounded and the next time we move, you both will be sharing a room that I will pick out for you. Got it?" mom told us, her eyes narrowed as her gaze flicked between the two of us. Not daring to backtalk, Cristina and I nodded mutely. Upon cue, our fifteen-year-old cousin entered the room, his arms wrapped around the latest addition to our family – two-year-old Mason who hadn't learnt how to talk or walk yet, still being in the early months of being two.

"Do you know that we can practically hear you guys all the way from outside?" he announced as he came in, the use of the 'we' pronoun being demonstrated straight after as the two seven-year-old twins Hazel and Harriet burst into the room in a wild game of tag. Hazel giggled as he stumbled around the room in order to escape his twin who was huffing after him, the pigtail plaits I had done for her in the midst of coming completely undone, stray wavy strands curling around her chubby-cheeked face, identical to that of her twin brother's.

Mom shut her eyes, her head tilting heavenwards, I could just about make out, with my super awesome ninja-like lip reading skills, her mouthing 'why me?' to the ceiling. I think I should feel offended, we're not that bad...okay fine, so maybe we are but that's not the point here. I digress. Mom sighed tiredly before turning to our cousin who had now balanced Mason on his hip and was looking at her with his light green eyes, one eyebrow raised as he basically asked her wordlessly what he was to do now.

"Zach honey...would you mind watching the baby and the twins for a little while longer please? Just take them downstairs to the kitchen and sort them out whilst I make sure these two immature babies," here, she turned to glance at us indicating that we were meant to hear it, "have their rooms all sorted out and that there will be no bloodshed when I turn my back. I won't be long, sorry dear." Mom apologized to our cousin who merely shrugged before nodding his head.

"It's okay Aunt Renee, don't worry about it. It's as good as done." He smiled widely displaying his shiny purple coloured braces before calling the twins and walking out the door with them. We could hear his footsteps as he carefully made his way down the stairs.

I dumped the heavy box onto the floor next to my bed, wincing at the non-friendly sounds that emanated from it before spinning over to my bed and flopping down heavily on it, sighing and gazing around at my new room.

It wasn't actually too bad. Mom had passed over a couple of photos but I think Carley and I were too focused on the very large bedroom that now belonged to the twins. Plus, I think in the photos, the angles the people had shot it at made the room seem very small...so I had been expecting a tiny room but it was actually quite spacious. Perfect for all my shit; I have way too much junk – what can I say, I'm a sentimental person.

Although it didn't have its own bathroom like Cristina's (meaning I'd have to fight with Zach in the morning to get to the shower first...I'm so looking forward to that, especially since despite being fifteen he had already begun voluntarily working out in order to get onto the soccer team. Says he wants to be in shape for the season and all those sit ups, press ups and crunches are actually paying off. It should be illegal for fifteen-year-olds to have that kind of willpower), it did have a very cool bay window with large windows that could open up and grant me access to the roof – perfect for stargazing at night. I'm beginning to think that maybe this room is better than the twins' actually...

Even now, I could feel the sheer power of those windows calling out to me in order to show off the beautiful view they offered...well, it wasn't exactly beautiful. Picturesque is what I'd call it...very much your picturesque, typical, clichéd suburban scene.

Sneezing as I sat down on the ledge that was jutting out, I made a mental note to get a move on with cleaning this room and evacuating all those conspiratorial dust bunnies – little fuckers are everywhere. I probably actually should have cleaned the room before moving everything in but what can I say? When you move house...all boxes are up for grabs. So of course, I had to make like lightning and grab all of my boxes before Cristina got a hold of them. Lord knows, that girl would make up any excuse as to why she owns half my wardrobe and all my cosmetics. And I like my stuff thank you very much. No, these jeans I'm wearing do not belong to her...well, not the whole pair anyway.

Gazing out through the dirty window at the view I had of the neighbours next door, I could see toys, toys, toys all strewn about their green front lawn – a premonition of what was to happen to our lawn in just a matter of minutes once we got all the boxes sorted out and no, Zach, that box belongs to me too. The twins seem to have a miraculous gift of finding what they 'need' (that is, dolls, trucks, stuffed animals, squirt guns)...and what we really abhor since the only thing they'd serve to do is get in the way of trying to organize a new house.

I grinned at the thought of the twins running around in hyper-mode whilst mom swerved around them, precariously balancing her delicate china as she attempted to place it in one of the cupboards, Cristina yelling at them to quit it as she flattened her new pink tank top against her tanned body before placing it in her wardrobe. I could even see Zach as he avoided the entire thing, choosing to set up his Playstation first in favour of ordering his bed and desk.

Sighing heavily, I got up and turned around only to be met with confusion as I wondered where the hell the box I'd just brought in was...and why it was now standing by the door. Didn't I just...contemplating this question, I finally shrugged it off, blaming it on my scatter-brained nature and walked over to unpack my things, squealing in delight as I finally found the blue mascara one of my friends had given me for my birthday...it had been missing for about a year already.

Delving back into the box, I groaned suddenly as I heard the sound of Cristina's frustration being vented out on some poor soul. I think one of the movers must have dropped the box containing her television or something...or maybe he accidentally stepped on her toe. Either way, mom was yelling my name at the same time as chastising the mover for being so careless.

Rolling my eyes, I trudged downstairs into the kitchen where I could see Cristina fuming as mom attempted to calm her down. I assume the man must have broken it or something. God, if he did break it...it would be me flying at him with my nails at the ready. I'm not exaggerating: if you've never suffered through a Cristina who is currently missing her soap operas due to some kind of difficulty...well, be prepared for random, pointy-sharp flying projectiles.

As I entered, passing the two women and heading for baby Mason who was gurgling cutely and staring up at me with his big blue eyes, I heard Cristina snorting.

"Been sniffing cocaine up your ass or what?"

Okay, maybe the room isn't that great.

"...he took her hand and helped her up onto his noble steed and then together, they ran off into the awaiting sunset. The prince and the princess lived happily ever after." I closed the book with a final thump, smiling at the two sleepy faces before me.

"I wan' anotha' one." Hazel declared sleepily, his eyelids already slipping shut as he spoke. With barely a nod of the head, his twin sister Harriet agreed.

"No, no, no, not today. I'll read to you again tomorrow alright? It is bedtime already so come on, separate." I ordered gently but with a little sternness in my voice. They were too tired to argue or groan about it, Hazel immediately dropping off of Harriet's bed and stumbling to his own whilst his twin had pulled the duvet cover over her small body and was nearly fast asleep. Smiling softly, I got up off of Harriet's bed and then bent down to kiss her lightly on the forehead. Sweeping back the waves of hair that rested gently on her face, I grinned at how angelic yet devilish she was.

Turning around and crossing the space between their two beds, I pulled up the covers and tucked them around Hazel's chin as he sleepily murmured to me, "Dayne, I don' wanna sleep...monsters...chase..." was what I caught and I understood immediately.

The twins had been going through a phase of where they thought there were monsters or ghosts hiding in their room and had made it clear to me that they weren't going to sleep until I or anyone else had checked over the room for them.

Seeing as they were nearly fast asleep, I doubt they would know if I'd checked but out of habit, I searched for them anyway, opening the cupboard doors and lying down on the now cleansed of dust bunny carpet. Once I'd checked all the 'nightmare spots', I whispered a soft 'goodnight' to the twins (making sure to tell Hazel that yes, I had checked the room for them and no, there were no monsters around and that the ghost in the corner had already flown away to his own bed and would not be bothering them tonight – for some reason, Hazel had it in his mind that there was a ghost living in this house) and blew them each a kiss. I switched on the nightlight, the light bathing the room in a soft, friendly glow before stepping out of the room. I left the door hanging only slightly ajar – this one being requested by mom. Since it was a fairly big house, mom wasn't sure if she'd be able to hear them if they'd called for her or something.

Walking across the landing, I heard the soft sounds of the television and the occasional eruption of laughter from the little hellion I call my sister and Zach as they watched what I could only assume to be some sort of comedy show. Opening the door, I winced at the creepy-sounding creak it had let out. I may be Horror Movie Queen™ but creaky doors just freak the shit out of me. I must remember to get those hinges oiled tomorrow – something I had been telling myself everyday for the past week since we moved in.

Switching on the light, I smiled around at my new room once again, admiring the walls I had decorated all by myself. Each one was different. One of them was black with a rainbow myriad of paint splatters, the next was a collage of different posters and the occasional photo of me standing with various band members when I went out to concerts and actually managed to meet them. The third wall was a nice purple shade that wasn't too bright but not too dark since I really do like the colour purple. (in fact, I'm thinking of dying my black hair – which I had done about two or three months ago – to a nice neon purple...but I probably won't since mom just about had a coronary when I had gone to bed with a nice head of golden blonde locks and woken up the next day with a head full of wild midnight black tresses. Besides, purple hair probably wouldn't suit me – the black already makes me pale enough as it is.) The last wall I left blank as a sort of doodle kind of wall where I could scribble down things or draw stuff to decorate it. I'd already started with one corner of the wall already littered with quite...well, inane-like scribbles and song lyrics from various bands.

Switching on the stereo that was connected to my red iPod nano, I smiled as the familiar sounds of the German band Killerpilze floated out of the speakers and into my ears. 'Heute ist der tag, er ist so dunkel, ist so schwarz...' God, their lead singer is so hot. I'd so let him do me in a second. Mm, yeah...

Humming along to the song, I twirled around the room as I snatched up a belt from the ground and tossed it into the middle of my bed, deciding to wear it tomorrow since I was allowed out now to check out the local scene. Must look good, first impression and all that.

Mouthing the lyrics in an attempt to follow the German words, I pulled out one of my favourite shirts. It was black with a printed decoration of a boom box and some musical notes floating out of the speakers. It was so sexy. I turned to my right, flattening the shirt against my lithe body and admiring myself in the mirror, twirling and winking at my, if I do say so myself, pretty damn sexy reflection. However, the sudden rustle and thump of my belt falling onto the floor had me whirling around to face my bed in a second. I warily eyed the studded-with-rainbow-colours belt which was lying harmlessly on the floor. I then shrugged, thinking I mustn't have put it on the bed properly. I threw my shirt onto my bed, figuring I'd pick the belt up later.

Sliding out of my light blue jeans so I was left only in a pair of navy blue boxers and my white shirt, I bent down to search for that old pair of black skinny jeans that had a few rips on the thigh areas, allowing me the chance to show off my pale, flawless skin. Suddenly, I felt an icy cold hard force of a certain...something against my ass and yelped, trying to straighten and instead hitting my head on the shelf above my jeans, my body slumping down onto the carpet. Curling into a ball, I clutched my poor head; rubbing at the sore spot as my eyes darted around the room in search of the attacker...I could've sworn on my life that someone had just slapped my ass.

After about a couple of minutes of searching for something that was completely non-existent, I warily turned back to my wardrobe only to find that I was actually sitting on the jeans I was looking for. Finding it quite odd since I'm so sure that they were not there before (my feet would have been where my ass was), I picked them up deftly, pinching one of the belt loops between my thumb and index finger as I tried to grasp what was going on.

Finally, I decided to blame it on a queer sudden lack of balance and observational skills. Also, the fact that I really mustn't be getting enough if my imagination is beginning to run off in that kind of direction might be a cause of this weird mind turn.

I made a mental note to continue writing with one of my latest, newly started yaoi stories. I might even just start writing a sex scene for it to try to release all this pent up sexual frustration. Huh.

Getting up, I tossed my jeans onto the bed before pulling my shirt over my head and gasping at the icy cold rush that seemed to suddenly press itself up on me and melt into my skin? I shivered and jumped around the room trying to get warm and wondering what the hell was up with this house – it seemed to be bathed in an omnipresent cold atmosphere – especially this room. I'll have to talk to mom about radiators soon methinks.

Grabbing an oversized shirt, I slipped into it, revelling in the temporary warmth it had provided. Dancing over to the mirror, I clicked my fingers to the beat of Katy Perry – the sexy seductress she is. I love this song.

Just wanna try you on, I'm curious for you, caught my attention...

It's so damn sexy...but even sexier in my own version which I was currently singing along out loud to the tune.

"I kissed a boy and I liked it; the taste of his fruity chap stick. I kissed a boy just to try it. I hope my parents don't mind it. It was so long, it felt so right...oh, I'm so in love tonight." Yes, I'm gay and flamboyantly so...so get the hell over it. As I sang, I began to run my hands all over myself, my body dissolving into liquid as I felt the bass beat thumping in me and my own lyric rendition whirling in my head. Spinning around, I ran my hands through my hair, my hips automatically swaying from side to side.

"Us boys, we are so seductive: toned skin, bruised lips, so kissable, hard to resist, so touchable. Too good to deny it, ain't no big deal, it's rebellious." So lost in my own world of music and dance, I forgot the fact that I was actually in my room, in my own house meant only for my family and that there was no one else who could be my dancing partner (not that I would let them, I mean, it's my family! Eww, no!)...though I suppose that I have no other excuse as to why I didn't notice the fact that there was actually a body sliding up and pressed against me. No, I was gone, finding myself in a dark club with strobe lights and smoky vapour trails lingering and licking at my bare legs as I grinded with that sexy body behind me. Hm, firm abs, definite subtle muscle tone...dropping down into a crouch, I slowly unfolded my body, coming up against him as I felt his very hard, very solid cock pulsating against my ass. And like the slut I am, I merely grinded back, a moan escaping me. My eyes were still shut though I could see the light flashes against my eyelids, Katy's voice ringing and mixing with my own effeminate one as the beat thumped through my veins...

And all of a sudden, everything vanished as the music stopped, switching onto some track that I'm not really aware of. I suddenly felt very empty without the music fuelling me, without that body behind me and those strong hands running over my crotch and gripping my hips. I was very confused. Was that real or just a fantasy? Because the body I felt behind me sure was real. I bit my lip, glancing around my room but seeing nothing. Am I going crazy? Or is it a lack of sex because I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that your balls can fall off from lack of use or something...granted, the author was probably crazy and had no degree in medical history whatsoever but you never know, there's always a first time for everything.

Shaking my head to clear my disturbing thoughts, I conceded defeat to Cristina, agreeing silently with my sister that yes, maybe I really do need to get laid. Sighing, I returned to sorting out my wardrobe but I didn't get very far, the mirror catching something that was definitely weird.

You know, I'm not really that vain...okay, fine, so I am but can you blame me? Dyed jet-black hair, razor-cut to a perfect chin-length to the extent that it framed my face and it even had short strands at the back, allowing me the chance to spike my hair up if I wanted. It even came complete with a very stereotypical 'emo' fringe that would fall into my extremely light (and I'm talking, near clear turquoise) pale blue eyes – perfect for drawing in any unsuspecting boys, especially those closeted ones. I mean, come on, being on any kind of sports team is practically screaming 'GAY!' to the entire world, so I don't see why us more hygienic and better-dressed gay people get ridiculed. At least we don't go around grabbing other people's inner thighs in front of millions of people.

Anyway, flawlessly featured face aside, I am also very proud of my pale skin. It's not to the point of being anaemic though I am a vegetarian – recently converted though. I just can't be arsed half the time to chew on rubbery bits of living things, or rather, dead things. Besides, veggies are so much better and healthier too, something that I'm in dire need to be seeing as I'm just too lazy to chase a ball around a muddy football field. Exercise and Dayne do not belong in the same sentence together...well, if it's a positive one anyway. Somehow though, I manage quite well in that my body is kind of toned...actually, I lie. I'm mainly just plain old scrawny-skinny. Anything that may give you the idea that I'm toned is a lie – the only way I'd be toned is from my various...conquests you could say.

Which reminds me, why have I gone on so long without sex and not even noticing it till now? Damn Cristina and her stupid, creepy observational skills. Anyway...I digress.

In fact, the only thing I really hate about myself is my height. I'm short,as in, only reaching the grand height of five-foot-seven. But despite that little flaw, I think I'd still do myself anyway. You know...if I ever could. But even if I could, I doubt I actually would because that would just be sick and wrong and plain weird. Insert shudder here.

Haha, I'd so do you too baby...

I screamed at the seductive voice that whispered ever so softly into my ear, now fully convinced that I was not hallucinating and that there was some kind of freaky psycho-murderer-slash-stalker-pedophile-rapist in my room that was ready to hack me to pieces with a 2B pencil.

Okay, I think I will really have to slow down on my viewing intake of watching scary movies about being trapped in a high school during the night before final exam week on Friday the thirteenth.

I leapt onto the bed in a mad rush of super power ninja flying skills, diving under the covers and lying in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only for a minute. After thinking about slowly suffocating to death on my own carbon dioxide waste respiration, the thought of my mom's horrified face at finding me the next morning dead and my sister's Chesire Cat grin as she flicked through her address book with her mobile phone attached to her ear as soon as she discovered why I wasn't coming down to eat breakfast, had me out of the covers in a flash.

The thing I saw next was something that was just about to defy all human scientific explanations and coherent thought and explanation as to why exactly he was here.

I don't get scared easily, honest, I really don't. After all, I am the Horror Movie Queen™. But usually, when you're watching a movie and you're about to see some kid get hacked into tiny pieces with a chainsaw or are about to experience a gruesome death in which someone is tortured to the point of being half-dead and then they finish him off with a pair of nose-hair tweezers, or maybe even watch some lady run towards where the infected zombie corpses are and you just know that she's going to get bitten and that her blood is going to be splattered everywhere, including the camera that's recording this whole thing...when you watch these kinds of movies – you know that they're not real. That they're just the product of some director or writer's overactive imagination and guilty pleasure at seeing people getting torn to tiny bits or get nibbled on until the only thing left of them is a nail. You know it isn't real and that's why you're not scared, that's why you laugh. Because nothing like that ever happens. If it did, we'd all be in serious shit.

This may actually be the reason why I am staring in shock horror at the vision sitting on the bay window in front of me, my mouth too slack-jawed and my brain too scrambled to even comprehend the fact that there is this unknown person in my room...it may be why I'm not screaming blue bloody murder and why I'm wondering, when they make horror movies, why the fuck do they never make creepy monsters/offenders as gorgeous as this one?

"Ah...ah-gah...uh-guhguh...ummahummha...ha-how...gurk..." I spluttered, my brain attempting to get my tongue to work but sadly, the muscle seemed adamant in getting its own way – refusing to work and therefore, embarrassing me in front of this lovely...vision. Fuck, he was so fucking...beautiful.

Sitting on my bay window was a god. The moonlight shining through my now clean window illuminated his astral body, lighting it up in a soft glow in which he just about radiated danger, forbidden thoughts and arrogance. His hair was a beautiful shade of dirty blonde and was mainly gelled into spikes, the texture looking soft to the touch. I felt like reaching out and grasping those locks if only to tug gently and run my fingers through them. His skin was a nice fair tan colour and from what I could see, he was quite a good dresser. Light blue jeans that looked a little tight (nowhere near as tight as my own of course – people say the tightness of my pants is already testicle-suicide but I don't see how, I mean, my ones work just fine) coupled with a plain white and light blue striped tee that was definitely too tight – I mean, I could see those well-defined abs of his.

He was so gorgeous and at first, I thought I was going crazy. I mean, I could tell he wasn't a normal mortal like you or I. He was different. He felt different, that and the fact that he had suddenly appeared in my room. I'm not that oblivious as to let huge things like this pass me by, trust me, I would definitely be able to spot a hot guy from a mile away. And if neither of those factors was a dead giveaway, the texture of his entire being was. He was transparent, a ghostly hint of a nonexistent being. Sure, he looked real but if you look long and close enough, you would be able to tell that he was nothing but the matter that went against all kinds of common human thought.

The strange, unknown boy had one leg propped up on the bay ledge, a strong arm slung casually around his bent knee. His other leg was left hanging down, his right thumb hooked through one of the belt loops and his hand loosely pressed against his crotch area – that is, where his jean zipper was. I felt my breath hitch as he slowly dragged those bright, ghostly sea-green eyes up my tiny form, his full, bruised looking lips quirking up into a small smirk as he saw my face – probably in an embarrassing expression where my mouth was hanging open or my eyes were wide and I was drooling or possibly, all of those expressions combined into one.

As our eyes connected, I couldn't help the feeling of being knocked over. I could swear the sexual electricity between us was shockingly dangerous. It was bad, it was unreal, it was...scary. For the first time in seven years...I was generally scared for my life. And I was finally beginning to comprehend just why exactly, those previous tenants had left in such a chaotic panic.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in ages or maybe it stemmed from teenage hormonal lust but whatever it was...I knew I just had to slow down on my horror movie addiction. Otherwise, I'd go completely around the bend, not that I wasn't halfway there already. I mean, ghostly gorgeous guys suddenly making an appearance in my room? Can you hear the cuckoo bird resounding in my head?

"Who...Wha - ?" I was still sputtering, feeling my face scrunch up into what was probably a very retarded questioning expression as I helplessly watched. Too afraid to step up and ruin this crazed hallucination, too afraid to step up and realize it was real and that there really is ghosts in this life.

"Open up Dayne! And turn off that shitty noise you call music while you're at it!" my head nearly snapped as I swivelled my neck around to the door where Cristina was banging her fists so adamantly against. Forget oiling the hinges, once she's through hammering it, I'll need a completely new one to keep everyone out of my room and my business. Privacy people, it's a good thing.

Whirling back to gaze at the apparition perched by my bay window, I blinked and rubbed my eyes a couple of times. He had disappeared. I didn't know whether to feel disappointed like a baby whose candy had been snatched away suddenly (which wasn't too far off from the truth now that I think about it – metaphorically of course) or to feel relieved that it seemed to be my overactive imagination. That's it, tomorrow; I'm so going to a club and meeting some hot ass guy because I don't think I could take anymore of this.

"Dayne! Open this stupid door or I'll open it for you!" I could hear Cristina yell, soon following were a few quiet murmurs of Zach – I assume he was telling her to keep it down otherwise she'd wake everyone else up.

I sighed. I better go and do as she requests otherwise she probably would follow through with that threat of hers. And I just really don't feel like going on a shopping trip for new bedroom doors tomorrow.

Getting up from the bed, I shuffled to the door and unlocked it, opening it to meet the fiery gaze of my younger sister.

"What the hell was all that screaming for? And then the locked door? And then you wouldn't answer? You fucking emo faggot." She shook her head at me, glaring venomously. I was too dazed to comprehend that in her roundabout weird way, my preppy teenybopper sister actually cared.

"Dayne?" I looked up from the carpet to see my cousin shuffling from one foot to the other, his face nervously peeking out from behind my sister's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, still in a daze, "yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Nothing's wrong I just...uh...saw a spider."

"A spider! You screamed and got us all panicked over a stupid spider! Why I ought to...-" and she was off. I didn't even bother trying to defend myself, my ears and mind already blocking her out.

Is he real? If he is...who the hell is he?

Five days since I last saw him and during those last five days, I had already managed to acquire a new fuck buddy called Kristian. He's Swedish, tall, sexy and boy, can he dance – part of the job requirement. He's a gay male stripper and practically a walking wet dream. He really knows his stuff and I swear: sex on legs boy, sex. On. LEGS.

Even now, in the shower as I'm squirting shampoo into the palm of my hand and then running it through my water-slicked hair, I'm thinking about last night and about all those new tricks he was showing me...oh god, I could already feel myself getting hard. Running my hand down my small chest, I licked my shower-kissed lips as my appendage continued its downward movement, my member twitching as...

HOLY MOTHER OF MOTHER FUCKING SHIT AND ALL HER MOTHER FUCKING PIGLETS OF FUDGESICLE DOOM!

I just about screamed as I scrambled to get out of the shower, the sudden icy cold blast of water awakening me fully as well as causing my cock to become as flaccid as one of Great-Aunt Jemima's failed attempts at making a Yorkshire pudding. If you've never seen one of my Great-Aunt's puddings...be thankful. That thing is a very sorry sight to behold.

Grabbing the towel off the handrail, I quickly wrapped it around myself, slipping occasionally and having to latch my hands onto the sink in order to prevent me from completely falling on my ass. After a few attempts to right myself and succeeding eventually, I couldn't help the low growl that escaped through my chattering teeth as I realized that evil bitch of a sister had gone ahead with her own shower even though we had specific times of who was to shower when. Grabbing my pyjamas, I stomped out of the bathroom passing a sleepy Zach whose eyes popped open as I thumped into my own room. He looked quite bewildered at seeing his cousin walking around nearly half-naked. I probably would be too if Zach was running around with a sour look on his face with only a towel on.

I threw the clothes down somewhere on the floor and adjusted my towel so it was a little tighter around my hips and was not in any more danger of falling right off. Opening my wardrobe, I took one look in the mirror and just about had a heart attack as my eyes connected with the beautiful sea-green eyes that were currently boring holes in my being.

I spun around, gasping audibly as I saw the ghost standing in the middle of my room; his hands were stuffed in his jean pockets and his gaze roamed around, eyes lingering on my poster-heavy wall. I just...I just had sex yesterday so why, why, why is he still here?!

"You're cute when you get all confused and panicked." The ghost chuckled lightly and I swear I nearly fainted. It was perfect, deeply rich like melted dark chocolate but not too rich to the point of him being a total jock. Which I think he was judging by the firm athletic build not so discreetly hidden underneath his tee.

"Hummah. Hummah...wh-who are...who are you?" I bit out, cursing myself for my lack of grace and for the flush that suddenly dominated my cheeks. Damn being pale, damn this gorgeous ghost. Fuck.

I watched his facial expression change suddenly from shock, to confusion to wariness as he eyed me, those sea-green pools traveling up and down my body...I was suddenly aware that I was half-naked and if he even had the power to, this ghost could just as easily rip off my towel and expose my goods. Not that I would mind...but only under any other circumstance – now, it's just damn awkward.

"You can...see me?" he inquired curiously, eyes darting around the room as if wondering if he'd just been imagining it and I hadn't been asking him but rather, some other stranger. His voice sounded like a typical Northern-Carolina, not that I'd been expecting anything else.

"Well...um, yeah. Can't you see you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, my face immediately going as red as a tomato. Of course he can see himself you weirdo!

As predicted, he shot me an odd look coupled with an amused smile before exhaling heavily and stepping backwards to sit on the bay window seat, his hands coming out of his pockets and clasping together at the front as he bowed his head down as if in thought. After a momentary pause, he looked up at me, fighting to keep back a smile.

"Yeah, I can see myself. Kind of...that is, I mean...wow. I just...it's just that...you can see me? Really?" he questioned me again, curiosity alight in his eyes. This time, I just rolled my eyes.

"I think I'd notice a sexy surfer stranger in my room." I said before realizing what I'd just said, my eyes widening as I backtracked hastily, "I mean, that is...I'm surprised I didn't notice it before."

"Heh, you're really cute you know that? Well, Dayne, I guess...well, I'm just kind of stunned. See...I'm a ghost." He explained, scratching his head and averting his gaze from me.

"Like that wasn't obvious." I couldn't help it and immediately squeaked to remedy the situation, cursing my brain, "God, I'm so sorry. I'm not normally this rude...I guess I'm just kind of stunned too? I just can't get around the fact that I'm actually...talking and seeing this...ghost. It's like something out of a 1995-Casper movie." I ran my hands through my hair, still confused.

How can I be talking to a ghost? Why am I not running away? These questions were being fired at me from all points of my brain and I couldn't help but give the same answer: I don't know. 'Cause I really don't...besides, how does one carry themselves in this kind of situation? I should write a letter to those self-help writers and advise them to quit the shitty self-help and make more useful books like, oh, I don't know, maybe one where they actually help you when you think you've gone around the bend and have started talking to imaginary beings that go bump in the night. Haha, they should call it, 'What to Do When Gorgeous Calvin Klein Model Look-A-Likes Start to Talk to You, After They've Bitten the Dust.' Maybe they'd actually make some worthwhile money out of it.

"How do you know my name...?" he questioned suddenly and I was thrown off-guard.

"What?"

"My name; it's Kasper. Kay-Aay-Ess-Pee-Ee-Arr. Kasper." He spelt it for me, quite proudly so too I think. Ugh, this is so a newer, more modern rendition of the 1995-Casper movie. It's scary how similar this situation is to the movie...except this Adonis-like ghost's name is spelt with a 'K' instead of a 'C' and he's...well...Adonis-like whereas the other just looks...well, he's cute too but...the Kasper in front of me seems way more sexier. And mature too.

"Um...I'm psychic?" I ventured, causing him to burst out laughing in a full-on laugh attack. Okay...creepy...I crack jokes with a ghost. Yes, you may now officially reserve a room for me on the fifth floor on Hyde Avenue in New York City.

"Cute and funny and oh so...sexy..." he mused, his eyes roaming all over me and I shivered, realizing just how cold I was due to the fact that I was still wearing a towel. I think Kasper must have realized this too at the same time as I suddenly saw this evil glint in his vaporous eyes as he glided with smooth elegance towards me, his tongue flicking out to lick at his utterly kissable lips. Ugh...must...resist...

I could hear my voice singing back to me the lyrics I had made up in replacement of Katy's own creativity, my teeth immediately sinking into the soft pillow of my lower lip as Kasper grinned wider, his eyes slipping closed...fuck...so...sexy...

Oh. SHIT. Hell NO.

"YOU!" I burst out, causing Kasper to stumble back (hehe, that's funny. Ghosts stumbling...okay, not really.) in confusion, his eyebrows shooting up as his foamy sea-green eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape. He probably thought I was going to berate him or something for coming that close to me...which I should be doing actually because he did come too close and I didn't even know. Oh my god...I could already feel my face flushing at the memory. Of course. Ugh, I can't believe how stupid I was...

"Dayne...?" his voice was small as he took a step back.

"You're the one who I was dancing with, weren't you?" I carefully avoided saying 'grinding', 'dancing' seems a lot less dirty. I growled in frustration as he suddenly adopted the rabbit-in-the-headlights look, shaking my head and feeling hot all over.

Is it wrong to feel so turned on right now?

"Ugh, I can't believe it! I just...meh!" I quietly screamed in irritation, glaring at Kasper who suddenly seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping as he guiltily glanced away. Maybe I'm being a little too harsh...

"I didn't know you could see me or...feel me...well, I did kind of since you were kind of dancing back with me but I just...I couldn't help it! I mean you're so...uh..." he trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he kept his gaze averted from my own.

I placed my hands on my hips, striding as dominantly and with as much dignity one can possibly muster walking around with nothing but a towel hanging low on the hips, towards him.

"I'm so what...Kasper?" I asked him softly, cocking my head to the side. His name just rolled right off my tongue so easily. I liked the sound of it. Kasper...Kaspeeer. Kas-Per. Kaaaasper. Okay, now it's just getting weird.

"So..." his gaze connected with mine and again, I felt the sparkling static between us, the sheer sharpness shocking. "So beautiful and sexy and...I'm really sorry." He finished, biting his lip and turning away from me.

"Kasper..." his name slipped out and my hand automatically reached out, my fingers deftly wrapping around his arm causing both of us to gasp at the same time. Me from the solidness, the subtle muscle I could feel tensing beneath the pads of my fingers, yet how oh so cold it was, the icy feeling spreading through me like frozen wildfire. Him from...well, I could guess – human contact.

Looking down at my hand on his arm, I couldn't help but hear those lyrics stuck on a permanent repeat inside my head: '...it felt so wrong, it felt so right...'

Suddenly, I could see him shimmering before me, my eyes snapping up to his as a shocked expression overcame his features and when I blinked...he was gone.

"That. Is. An. Ugly excuse for a shirt." Kasper turned his nose up at the garment I was offering him and I rolled my eyes.

"It is not ugly!" I argued; feeling annoyed at the spectre standing in front of me.

"Yeah, it really is. It looks like someone vomited a rainbow on you." He wrinkled his nose though I could still see that hint of a smirk tilting up his lips. Little bastard. Or rather, I should say giant bastard. Fucker is just a little over six feet tall.

"You wouldn't know good taste if it hit you in the balls!" I exclaimed, tossing the shirt into a corner of my room.

"Well gee; I guess I'm missing out on a lot then? Seeing as you know, anything that is aimed towards my balls goes right through them." He rolled his eyes.

"Everything except me." I retorted as a last resort before immediately growing hot and red.

"Suggesting something Dayne?" the infuriating blonde winked at me. I stuck my tongue out at him tossing him a "you wish" to which he responded by licking his finger and then trailing it down his chest. Of course, like always, I was fixated. Stupid tease. And he knew it judging by that smirk on his wide, enticing mouth.

It's been three and a half months since I moved into this haunted house and have finally accepted the fact that yes, I do have to share my room with this ethereal ghost. After a month, I broke it off with Kristian, saying that no; I did not want a no-strings-attached relationship. Of course, he still never stops calling and is always offering himself up for a quick round if I so desire. Before, I would have leapt at the chance but now...what can I say except: Kasper?

We're not doing anything together, just to let you know. And we have a strictly platonic relationship – as in, we're friends. Doesn't stop me from fantasizing about him but can you blame me? He's an ethereally gorgeous...sex god. And I'm just an innocent seventeen-year-old, hormonal teenager who happens to live with him.

We never really talked about what happened save that I never touched him again and we respect the proximity of each other. Is it bad to say I'm a little sad about it? But either way, we avoided the whole thing and started over again...now we're friends. That's it. This is also the reason why I am quite comfortable with insulting him and his taste. It really is bad taste.

"Whatever Kasper. Why don't you run along and rattle some chains or something? Whatever ghosts do in their spare time." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, we don't rattle chains. No, we prefer to annoy sexy little boys called Dayne." He chuckled, not even bothering to duck (why would he need to anyway in the first place I don't know) as I chucked a shoe at him, the flying projectile missing him by a mile. So my aim sucks, so sue me. Besides, even if it did hit, there really wouldn't be much of a difference seeing as he wouldn't be able to feel it.

Interesting thing that actually. We discovered that nothing was tangible to him except me. That is, the only thing he could properly feel and solidly so happened to be me. We tried it a couple of times with Cristina; earning us a lot of yelling and a shattering of my eardrums as she finally became fed up with the 'stupid house and its stupid, icy wind drafts – I thought we moved to North-Carolina, not Antarctica!'

Without glancing back, I clambered through the bay window frame, seating myself on the roof shingles and making a face at the wetness. I forgot it had rained last night.

I gazed up at the dark sky, seeing a stray star here and there but nothing so grand like out of a storybook. You know; the whole 'sky is littered with beautiful stars that shone with crystal light and radiated effervescent purity'. That's just bullshit. To me it is anyway, I've never seen a sky like that. Ever.

After sitting together in silence, I turned to Kasper, voicing aloud the question that had been bothering me for quite some time already.

"Why are you still here?"

"What?" Kasper seemed startled, turning around to gaze at me with those eerie eyes of his, those eyes that scrutinize me and send out warm tingly feelings down my spine.

"You know, why are you still in this world? How did you die? Do you have any unfinished business?" I elaborated, realization dawning on him as he nodded, turning away from me to look up at the sky. For a while, he didn't answer and I thought he'd gotten all moody or pissed or just didn't want to tell me.

"I don't know why I'm still here. As far as I know, I don't have any unfinished business...I don't think." He stated calmly, almost wondering.

"And how did you die?" I prodded him further. Yes, I know, I'm blunt and quite tactless too to be honest – didn't you get the memo?

"I don't think..." he scrunched his face up, his forehead wrinkling as he struggled to recall the memory. "I don't think I remember...much. I know that it was recent...a few years ago I guess? This year, I'd be...yeah, it was three years ago. I would be twenty, twenty-one? I can't remember...well, I mean, I do a little..." here, Kasper's face adopted a sort of screwed up expression as he attempted to remember what had happened to him, "There were lights...lots of lights and a loud roar. I remember spinning around and the panicked feeling of being wild, of being out of control. And then there was this sudden force meeting my body, my bones cracking and my skin burning as it scraped along...along some really rough surface. I remember the smell of gasoline, the smell of burning and metal in the air. It's all black...I remember hearing sirens...and there was beeping too. Voices...crying...and still beeping...and then...I don't know. Wait, and then...there was this one long note. That's what I remember the most of: that one note. Next thing I know, I'm screaming at my mom and dad and my little sister as they turned around to say bye to the house before leaving. I couldn't follow them, the house wouldn't let me." Kasper finished off silently, dramatically even.

"That sucks."

Kasper shot me a look.

"Sorry! I didn't mean it like that, I just mean...well, you know. It's just...it's wow. I mean...ugh. I'm...I'm sorry Kasper." I finally managed in the end, hanging my head in failure. God, you'd think after embarrassing myself in front of him a countless number of times that I'd be used to it by now but no, that was not to be the case.

"It's okay. It's not your fault I mean...it happens I guess? Besides, I got a friend out of it." He smiled here, turning to punch me lightly in the arm. Of course, me being the weakling I am, I nearly slipped off the roof from the force of the unexpected impact, causing Kasper to act quickly and he hurriedly pulled me up before I could go on plunging down into the dark, eerie garden below.

"Thanks." I muttered my entire body on fire. Next thing you know, I'll be kicking Johnny Storm's ass from the Fantastic Four in competition for the title: The Human Torch. I bet I'd win, at least my fire stems from the blood. His is just some freakyweirdphenomenonthingy after being stuck in space and going through some kind of...vortex-like thing. Cheater. But a hot one nonetheless...so I guess I can forgive him.

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

A long silence reigned over us after that as I rubbed my arm, feeling the smart from that whack despite it being light. I could so take him in for abuse. But I won't because he's gorgeous and gorgeous people are allowed second chances. Besides, how mental would I look phoning a helpline and claiming I'm being abused by a ghost? Yeah, I don't think that's happening anytime soon.

I nearly fell right off the roof again when Kasper suddenly burst out laughing. I managed to catch myself at the last minute and at the risk of sacrificing my newly done nails...again. My poor nails, they suffer so much! And they ask for so little in return...if only people were like that. Sadly, that would probably never happen. I could influence it but why preach what you practice when you don't practice what you preach? If that makes sense you know.

"What?" I asked him warily.

"We're a right pair. You, fully alive and completely lost in your world. Me, living dead and clinging onto you – my only friend. Hah, I'm pathetic." He chuckled lightly. I just looked at him.

"What?" I said again which only made him laugh harder.

"I think it's time for bed." He said with a smile. I opened my mouth to protest but was immediately silenced as I felt his lips ghost over my cheek. He pulled back, his eyes half-lidded until he realized what had just conspired and immediately averted his gaze – shimmering away.

I really wish he wouldn't do that.

...and my butt is really wet too.

"Kasper! Quit hiding already and come out!" I growled in my meanest, bear-like voice...which actually came out sounding like a girl with a breaking voice. A teenage transvestite, perhaps...?

"What Dayne?" he suddenly spoke behind me and I jumped about a foot in the air, uttering a yelp as I swivelled around to face him with a hand placed delicately over where I could feel my heart pulsating at a million beats a second.

"Don't scare me like that!" I admonished him, trying to calm my racing heart and cursing him at the difficulty of doing so due to his gorgeous self.

"Well, you called." He shrugged in an off-handed way, his sea-green eyes avoiding my own, in comparison, boring blue. I was taken aback at his apathetic tone, a tone I've never heard him use before.

"Kasper, what's wrong? Tell me, please." I just about begged him to.

"Nothing's wrong Dayne, I'm just fine." He said with a trace of bitter sourness in his voice, his eyes scanning one of my poster-collage covered walls. I watched as they lingered more on the male photos than on the female ones, like Britney Spears.

What? You have to admit; after shaving her head bald, nearly killing herself and losing her kids to her ex-husband (all of which has been broadcasted all over the world and has constant public attention), she's still doing pretty good for a celebrity. I mean, I bet half the people in this world wouldn't be able to cope with what she's going through. And with constant flashes and repetitions of your name as it's being trashed by those glossy magazines (not to mention the crazed reporters) too.

"We're friends Kasp –"

"I said, nothing's wrong."

Okay, now I'm getting pissed.

"Fine, be that way. Be a moody, angsty ghost, I don't care." I shrugged, I can be just as means as him.

"No, Dayne, it's just...I – just...just – ah!" he bit out in frustration, growling as I saw his fists clench and unclench. The ghostly glow that permanently surrounded him had been dim before but now it seemed to brighten a little – as if fuelled by his frustration.

Hurriedly, I took a step back, wary of him and wondering if maybe, that was just a little too cold.

"I'm sorry Dayne but it's just..." he closed his eyes, biting his lip.

Suddenly, he began to shimmer. Oh hell no, you are not doing that again, not on my watch at least! Growling with the refusal of letting him disappear on me again, I did the one thing I could think of in a situation where you're trying to stop a gorgeous Adonis of a ghost, tangible only to you, from performing a disappearing act worthy of any magician.

Jumping over various piles of clothes and swerving past assorted knick-knacks, despite my super ninja skills of graceful dodging and ability to spot empty spaces in a matter of seconds, I still managed to trip. I could just see the bold red words tattooed on my forehead: EPIC FAIL. Yeah well, screw you too you ballerina bitches.

Cursing, I scrambled up, trying to locate the source of my falling. I nearly squealed in delight as I saw the pink fuzz and upon fingering it, giggled in glee as I discovered my missing fuzzy pink handcuffs. Forgetting about the shimmering, sexy spectre, I hugged my handcuffs to myself. I've been looking everywhere for them! God, I suppose it's no use now,now that it's not exactly the right time...they would have been more handy if they'd magically appeared the day Kristian found some whipped cream in his fridge and well...who wants to waste perfectly good whipped cream? We had to use bed sheets instead sadly...but it was still ever so sexy. Holy shit...how sexy would it be if it had been Kasper I'd be licking the whipped cream off of? Oh yum...

Oh crap, Kasper! I suddenly remembered him and spun around, my original plan back in mind: tackle.

Now, if you've never actually tried to tackle someone...boy are you missing out. Especially if that certain someone is a six foot tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed ghost with the cheesiest ghost name in the whole haunting scene.

As my body connected with his, I could feel a sensation of momentary flight before hitting the ground...or rather, pummelling into Kasper's gorgeous body as he hit the ground. I doubt he would have felt the pain seeing as he was already dead. I actually half-expected him to sink through the floor. Surprisingly, he didn't.

"What th –" he started but I swiftly cut him off, feeling very confident and powerful.

I guess hurtling yourself across the room to stop a sexy ghost from disappearing and succeeding at it can do that to you. I should suggest it to those self-help writers or better yet, write it myself: 'Build Your Self-Esteem In Under Five Minutes Whilst Simultaneously Throwing Yourself At A Sexy Ghost Who Happens To Have A Habit Of Disappearing From Awkward Situations.' I'd be a millionaire.

I ought to think about shortening those titles. If I continue on like this, there won't be any more room in the book to actually put the information to help those poor, misguided souls who have yet to be enlightened by my wisdom.

Maybe I should become a tortured hermit title-maker-person instead, cursed with the gift of making up really long titles that are too long to leave any space for information. Kasper could be my imagination's morbid ghost sex slave...meh, I'm too lazy. That and I can't exactly do the whole tortured thing or hermit thing (I lead an active sex life, what else needs to be said?)...though I do have the questionable mentality down pat (I see dead people, whaddya expect?! Or rather, I just see Kasper.).

"What is your big deal?! Why is it that whenever something awkward happens, you just disappear? What is up with that?!" I asked him desperately, sure that I was probably shouting in his beautiful face. Wow, I must have real power...my cheeks aren't the slightest bit heated.

"Um...Dayne, as much of a great friend you are and however sexy your spit would be on any other part of me in a different situation...could you just say it for the moment?"

Curse Adonis-like ghosts and their ability to make me a tomato.

I made to swat him with one of my nearby pillows that had suddenly materialised in my hand but he stopped me with a flick of his wrist, his long fingers wrapping gently yet firmly around my wrist, the pads of his fingertips pressing lightly against my pumping pulse point...a pumping that soon sped up into a jumping thrumming as I realized just how deft and strong his fingers looked...and how experienced they felt wrapped around my arm. How good would it be to have those fingers trailing gently down the inside of my arm and along my side, as those hands would brush against my stomach, follow the dip down past my waistband?

"Dreaming about me again, Dayne?" his deep chuckle snapped me out of my fantasy and I guiltily averted my eyes, shifting my weight and accidentally brushing him there in my straddle position. I paid no attention until I heard a very delicious moan escaping those pink lips of his. Looking up from beneath my girly eyelashes (which I am damn proud of by the way! Au naturale, baby, as the French would say...I think), my breath hitched at the yummy scene laid out before me. My eyes greedily scanned over his body, over his face with the half-lidded-eyes expression, my ears straining as I heard his breath become erratic. And through it all, he retained that beautiful, ethereal glow, giving off an aura of incandescent youth and nightmarish spectral persona.

As a little experiment to see if I could get him to utter that beautiful sound which was music to my ears, I shifted my weight again, a sly smirk spreading across my lips as he indeed, moaned. Loud too, even sexier.

Forget 'Build Your Self-Esteem In Under Five Minutes Whilst Simultaneously Throwing Yourself At A Sexy Ghost Who Happens To Have A Habit Of Disappearing From Awkward Situations.', this is better: 'Build Your Self-Esteem In Under Five Minutes Whilst Straddling A Sexy Ghost And Experimenting Ways To Make Him Moan.'

Screw being a tortured hermit title-maker-person, I'll be a personal whore for all ghosts instead – especially if they're as sexy as Kasper.

Grinning, I leant down, making sure to make the action a slow and languorous process as I pressed and rubbed our chests together, my hips 'accidentally' grinding against his own.

"Dreaming about me...Kasper?" I repeated his earlier words back to him, whispering them seductively as my lips ever so gently brushed the shell of his ear, my gaze fixated on his expression.

"Ah...nyugh...oh god, Dayne...mm, ah..." he breathed, his voice very dark and hoarse. I watched his teeth sink sexily into his lower lip, his body thrusting up and his hips grinding automatically to meet my own fevered body. I smiled, feeling the familiar rise of an on-coming hard on through his rough jeans, my own cock twitching in response.

"Say that again, Kasper, say my name baby..." I whispered, grinning cheekily as I dropped my hand from where it had been before pressed against the muscle of his toned abs, trailing it downwards onto his stomach then further until they were gripping at his hips...

I yelped as the world suddenly spun before my eyes and then groaned upon contact with the floor. Shitshitshit, it burns like a bitch! (Ooh, rhyme...hehe...) Aah, painpainpain, flaming goddamn pain. The carpet...it burns! I should sue! I should friggin' sue this son of a bitch haunted house! Or rather, the real estate agency who sold this house to us in the first place. First we're gypped into buying a haunted house (albeit, the ghost that came as a package deal is pretty hot and oh so gay too but that's beside the point.) and now this stupid carpet is attacking me!

My pain was short-lived however as I heard someone moaning loud, like they'd just had an orgasm. I later realized about a second later that that moaning was me. And Kasper had been purring seductively into my ear, sending shivers down my spine and making my brain crackle with electricity at the sheer attraction.

"Dayne..." he purred my name softly into my own ear and I closed my eyes, revelling in the sound, "Dayne...like that huh? You like it when I say it like that babe?"

"Oh god...yes." I moaned, the sound causing shivers to ripple through Kasper's astral body.

I gasped loudly as I felt his tongue flick out to lick around the shell of my ear, the sensitive organ reacting to his ministrations. I could even feel that smirk that I knew was playing around his lips as he slowly but surely gained his dominance over me. Not that I'm complaining...yes, I'm a submissive little bitch. Deal with it.

"Shit, Dayne...oh god...you're so...you're so fucking beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how utterly...gorgeously...abso-fucking-lutely...beautiful you are? Do you know that...that that's the reason why – why I disappear? Because...because oh god, you're sexy. Mm...fuck yeah, you're sexy. And it's...so...hard to resist – to resist you and...it's...wonderful to give in – mm...I mean...shit! Fuck, no! No, no, no!" Kasper suddenly gasped out and the next thing I know, the comforting weight that had been before praising me and holding me in high regards had disappeared. And I was left with nothing to show for it save a slowly deflating erection and a confused jumble of scattered thoughts.

I'm cold. Is it strange to say how scared I am by this? Because, because Kasper is a ghost and never has he felt warm before to me...and it's weird. Because though we don't touch much, this current moment excluded, when I did touch him for the first time, he was cold. And now I'm only realizing that with him on top of me, near me...he's warm.

Sitting upright, I stared miserably at the carpet between my legs, the empty carpet which should be filled up with a certain non-human form...but isn't. I felt like screaming or...sulking or...I don't know.

"Dayne...I'm – I'm really sorry. It's just...we can't. I can't..." I heard a small voice behind me say, causing me to yelp. I swear; if he keeps doing this I will not live to see my twenty-third birthday.

Turning my body around and getting up on all-fours, I hesitated to get any closer, seeing Kasper sitting quietly on the ground, his legs crossed and his face...oh god, his face. He was miserable.

"K –"

"You have no idea just how much I wish I weren't dead right now. But oh my god...Dayne...I just can't do this. I mean...you're alive, I'm dead...I don't even know how this is actually, like physically possible. It's just...I –"

By now, I had crawled over to him, one thought set in mind.

"Kasper?"

"Dayne?"

"You're dead. Not ninety. So shut the fuck up and kiss me already."

And even though I ordered him to, I went ahead and sealed my lips over his anyway. I revelled in the taste of his ethereal skin, surprised at how solidly beautiful he was under my roving lips. As I gently flicked out my tongue, he seemed to lose all resistance under my skills of seduction and started to respond, slow and hesitant at first but soon he grew more confidence with every passing second as his tongue expertly explored the cavern of my mouth. I shivered at the unreality of the situation. Me! Kissing a ghost...a very hot ghost...

My eyes slowly slipped shut as my hands came up to tangle themselves in his soft golden locks, my fingers deftly twisting and occasionally tugging causing him to moan a little. I smiled a little into the kiss, my smile growing as his hands came up to grip at my hips, slowly sliding up and down my sides as we kissed. Pulling apart for a breath, it was only for a mere second as his lips came back to immediately suction onto my own, his tongue dancing in a lazy battle for dominance. Soon, however, our kisses became more and more urgent, both of us feeling the need, feeling wantof something more. They grew more passionate as our tongues duelled for dominance, Kasper uttering low growls every few minutes or so causing shivers to snake their way through my spine, spreading in an outwards direction and hitting my sensitive nerves. He was so warm, so hot; it felt like fire racing through me.

Eventually, I gave up and mewled like a kitten causing him to break apart and chuckle at me.

"What?!"

"You're just so...adorable." he whispered, shaking his head and grinning widely. I rolled my eyes and shifted on his lap (somehow, sometime during the whole thing I had managed to clamber onto his lap and was now sitting curled up against his muscled chest - yummy) causing him to yelp and fight to bite back a moan.

"Don't resist it, baby..." I licked the outer shell of his ear seductively like he'd done to me earlier.

"Fuck." He growled, low and deep in his throat and my heart began to beat faster, pumping out more adrenalin as the animalistic sound reached my ears and embedded itself into my brain. Is it just me who thinks that's hot? Because it so fucking is.

I squeaked as I felt a wobble when Kasper stood up, my arms immediately flying to clasp behind his neck as I hung like a little monkey onto him, his feet travelling over to the bed and then laying my gently onto the familiar, soft mattress. I was momentarily stunned, any lovers or fuck-buddies I had in the past had never done that, had never treated me like I was a delicate little flower...then again, I never really acted

like one so why would they? But that's not the point, the point is that Kasper was so gentle and though he could have dropped me onto the bed in a fit of raging lust, he didn't. And I don't know but it struck me as a really...as a really sweet gesture.

As he climbed onto me, I giggled as his fingers simultaneously danced along my sides, the familiar feeling of being ticklish rising up in me. Unluckily for me, he seemed to notice this too.

"You're ticklish!"

"No."

"Liar."

"Dumbass."

I squealed as Kasper dug his fingers into my sides, my body going into spasms in reaction as I laughed and rolled around on the bed in an attempt to avoid those ghostly fingers of his. Sweet my ass. Closeted animal in heat!

I was still laughing when Kasper leant down to lick along my bottom lip; my laughs dissolving into occasional giggles as he fully sealed his mouth over my own, grinning. Once I had calmed down, in vengeance I nipped at his lower lip, hard. But not as hard as to draw blood and break the skin – give me some credit here please, I may be a little bit of a slut but BDSM is definitely not my thing. Well...not much of it. What? Chains are fucking hot.

Kasper let out a moan and I smirked, my teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip again and then running my tongue over the mark to soothe it. He shivered and in one quick motion, I flipped us over so we were back in the Kasper-splayed-out-like-a-delicious-meal-and-Dayne-straddling-him-like-the-sexy-beast-he-is.

Rocking my hips, I ground down into him, his own hips thrusting up to meet my own. My jeans were already painfully tight and I moaned as I felt his cock twitching against my own through his jean material. Snapping out, his hands were suddenly on me and he was sitting in the upright position as his fingers scrabbled to get my t-shirt off. I fingered the bottom of the hem and ripped it off in one fluid motion before tearing his one off too. I stood up to shrug off my jeans, my underwear following soon after as Kasper did the same.

I marvelled at the view before me, the tensing muscles as they moved under his skin, following his body movement as he twisted and stretched, the shirt and jeans being tossed into some corner of my room. I licked my lips, seeing that delicious skin all bare to me, my eyes following the light smattering of his happy trail and alighting onto his more-than-happy, ecstatically erect member. Mm...fuck...yeah...

Running my hands over his abs, I shivered in delight as they ran over his muscles which tensed under my running fingertips, my fingers occasionally brushing against a nipple. I drew back though when I heard him gasp before realizing how sensitive he must be there.

Grinning, I gently brushed my hands over them again, causing an even louder gasp and before I could think twice, I had leant down and was now swirling my tongue around the erect nub, my tongue flicking out to tease him. With my other hand, I rolled his left nipple between my fingers, basking in the sound of his moan as it washed over me, its essence sending rolling shudders through my body. Switching over, I nipped lightly at the bud, my name gasping out from between Kasper's lips. Thank you Kristian...

"Dayne...Dayne..." oh, how I loved it when he said my name, low in his throat and full of so much...want.

Snarling like a rough animal, he flipped us over; my head landing on my pillow with a thump as he fiercely kissed my lips, his tongue pushing for entrance which I readily gave him.

"You're such a fucking tease." He groaned and I smiled secretly, my arms coming around to wrap themselves around his neck, my fingers twining themselves into his hair.

"And you fucking love it."

"Fuck yes, I do." He grinned before kissing down my jaw with sweet, butterfly kisses that left a lingering feeling of icy burning on my skin. It was a beautiful sensation and oh god, how I wanted more. Moving down, he stopped to nuzzle at my neck before baring his teeth and biting into the skin, his mouth attached and sucking on the bitten area like a true vampire. If I didn't trust him so much, I'd think he was going to steal my blood or something. I mewled and moaned as he gently licked the marks over. To have Kasper marking me...a reminder of him on me...I groaned as my hard-on twitched in anticipation.

Snaking his way down my body, his tongue leaving languorous long trails as he licked his way southwards, so much of a daze I was in I didn't even notice until he was hovering directly above my cock, his eyes glinting with mischief. Before I could voice out anything, he had already darted out a pink, wet tongue, lapping at the leaking pre-cum.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuckityfuckfuck! Holy shit, that feels so fucking good.

I whimpered, my eyes half-lidded before moaning loud and hard too when I felt his breath ghosting over my aching tip, gasping out Kasper's name as he suddenly, without warning, deep throated me. Feeling his tongue wrapping around my cock, I hitched my breath before exhaling heavily with a groan as the sucking pressure slowly increased. Oh god, not even two minutes and I felt like I was going to come, right there and then. Of course, I tried hard not to but...damn, that boy has some real suckage power behind that gorgeous mouth of his.

I yelped, my hips automatically thrusting upwards causing Kasper to put his hands on my hips and hold them down as he sucked harder, his head bobbing up and down fast. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I moaned his name, my dazed eyes meeting his beautiful foamy sea-green pools as he gazed up at me. Fuck, that's hot. I whimpered as he dragged his teeth lightly over my sensitive member, his tongue darting out every so often. Oh shit...I think...

"Oh god, oh god, Kass...oh fuck, I'm gonna...I think I'm gonna...I'm gonna come..." as soon as I spoke those words, I could feel Kasper's grin, could feel the increasing power of his sucking. I moaned loud before finally exploding, the sticky liquid shooting out of me and into Kasper's mouth...there was a lot of it too and he went and swallowed all of it. Just the thought of knowing Kasper had swallowed all of my cum had me shivering and my cock twitching again.

Too stunned to move after that mind-blowing blowjob, I only realized that the taste I was currently tonguing was my own semen on Kasper's lips, in his mouth, on his tongue...hothothot.

Breaking apart, I grinned as I felt little Kasper Junior still erect, twitching on my thigh in anticipation.

"My turn now."

"Boo!" I yelled as I jumped around the room maniacally, the twins giggling as they watched me from their safe places: tucked cosily into their own beds and each clutching a toy for protection from those evil ghosts and freaky vampires.

"Boo!" they copied me in unison, sniggering behind their tiny hands.

"Ooh, how scary..." Kasper mocked me, whispering into my ear as he floated around the room just behind me. I ignored him and continued to prowl the room like the fearsome Nightmare-Fearing Super Ninja™ I am.

"Oh my god Dayne, are you ever just going to grow up and work up the guts to tell the twins that these stupid...bogeymen or ghosts don't exist?" Cristina said with annoyance laced in her tone as she watched me from her position of leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded across her chest, "even mom doesn't pretend anymore."

"Nope, besides, I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you." I winked at her, "you never know." I suppressed the urge to giggle at her annoyed yet baffled expression as Kasper smiled into my neck from behind me, continuing his ministrations of placing gentle kisses across my jaw line, his hands gripping my hips loosely.

We shouldn't deny the existence of ghosts, vampires and other assorted nightmarish creatures, should we, mom?